Don't Say Goodbye
by inmyeyes
Summary: RT: "I know they say if you love somebody, you should set them free. But it sure is hard to do... All that's happening here is the long goodbye." (One-shot)


**A.N: **I still find myself unable to write any of my longer fic… but I realized that I needed to write _something_ and this was one the ideas floating in my head. Inspired by repeated listening of Ronan Keating's 'The Long Goodbye'. Seriously, listen to the song before, after or while reading this. Oh, and a big thanks to **Priya**. Girl, you rock! Hee.

  
  


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Don't Say Goodbye  
by inmyeyes**

She loved sunsets. 

To some, it signified the end of another day, of promises unfulfilled, things undone, time wasted. To her, a sunset was full of the promise of yet another day; the hope that even though one day has just ended, another was just around the corner. It was time going full-circle, with the certainty that it would go on endlessly… until whenever. 

There was something unique about each sunset; how the colours were splashed in a different array every time, the hues never constant but always breath-takingly beautiful. 

Their first sunset together had been spectacular. They had been sitting under a large tree in Central Park, his arms snug around her waist and her head resting on his shoulder. They had said nothing, both their eyes riveted on the wonderful sight of nature's canvas of blues, whites and oranges. They had said nothing, but the tightening his embrace and the smiles they had shared spoke volumes. 

That sunset represented a beginning, not the end. 

Today, the sunset was something different to her. It was just one of the many signs- signs that she could no longer ignore- telling her that the end was here. A sign reinforcing her belief that she was doing the right thing, even though it felt everything _but_ right. 

She pulled her coat closer to her body, trying to ward off the sudden chill of the evening air. The cold was only thing that had stabbed through the numbness that had spread throughout her body ever since she made her decision. 

That, and the defeated, knowing look in his eyes. 

"Why?"

The one word uttered so desolately in his low, hoarse voice tested her resolve. And when she lifted her gaze to his, and recognized the blooming pain in them, she was sorely tempted to just throw her arms around him and beg him to tell her that he loved her. 

But no, that wasn't the problem. She _knew Tristan loved her. That was never any doubt of that. _

Sometimes, she learnt, love is just not enough. 

The problem was that they loved so passionately and so completely… and that they fought in that same exact, heart-breaking manner. Their highs together were so euphoric but their lows were too shattering for her peace of mind, and for her heart.

Rory's voice was low, controlled and somewhere in the recesses of her mind, she applauded herself for her calm composure. "We keep breaking each others' hearts."

He shook his head, his eyes beseeching. "No-"

"We've tried, Tristan. We have." She took a deep breath, tearing her eyes away from him and staring blankly at the slowly darkening sky. "This just isn't working out," she said flatly.

She missed the steely, determined glint in his eyes. "Then we'll try again. We'll try harder."

"Tristan," she bit her lip as he stretched his hand out to her. "We can't. _I _can't."

He had so far respected her unspoken request to not touch her, but no longer. His grip was strong as he held her shoulders and lightly shook her once, twice as though trying to bring her back to her senses. "Then I'll try hard enough for both of us."

She closed her eyes against the pleading in his stricken gaze, in his voice. His hands gentled and moments later, she felt his warm touch against her cheeks, tenderly wiping away the tears she didn't know she was crying. 

"Rory-" He rained light kisses on her cheeks, her forehead, her eyes. 

She raised her hands to his chest, intending to push him away. Yet the feel of his beating heart against her fingertips reversed her intent and she found herself grasping a handful of his shirt, pulling him closer to her. 

"Please, _don't_."

Oh God, it was so hard to let him go. 

Somehow, she didn't know how exactly, she had moved into his welcoming arms, her hands greedily holding him, trying to memorize the feel of him. He was crushing her to him, his head cradled in the hollow of her shoulder, as though he was absorbing her into him, hoping to keep her there. 

And even though it hurt to be enfolded in his love, knowing goodbye was inevitable, the thought of pulling away hurt even more. And so, she stayed… never ever feeling better or worse in her entire life. 

"I love you."

His mumbled declaration made her pull away because she knew how potent those words could be; love was not enough but sometimes, it provided enough temptation to stay. 

She couldn't resist running her hand through his rumpled hair before taking a necessary step back. "I know," was her softly spoken answer. 

His eyes had closed at her earlier action, savouring her touch. At her response, he turned away from her before opening his eyes. Burying his hands in his pockets to restrain himself from reaching for her, he swallowed thickly before saying, "So, this is how it ends."

"This is how it has to end."

He whirled around, his face an angry mask. "No, _you chose this ending. It doesn't have to be this way, and you know it."_

His words stung but from his rigid stance and the muscle ticking in his jaw, she knew his anger was just a front for the pain. She could read him like an open book.

"What will you have me do, Tristan?" she demanded. "We live at opposite ends of the country, our lives are diverging further and further apart, and when we _are_ together, all we seem to do is bicker and pick fights with each other." 

"Well," he said dryly, "I never expected you to just give up."

"What do you want me to do?" she asked again. 

"I want you to tell me that you love me."

That was easy enough for her. "I love you, Tristan," she said simply. 

He closed the distance between them and took her hand in his. His eyes searching hers, he whispered, "And I want you to marry me."

Her fingers squeezed his for a moment- that moment in which she almost muttered the 'Yes' that popped into her mind- and then went lax in his grip.

She didn't answer but at that point, Tristan thought the lack of response was much better than a negative one. His hand delved into the deep pocket of his jacket and pried the velvet box from its hiding place for the last few months. 

When he placed the open box in her hand with the diamond glittering up at her, she pushed it back to him and made a hasty retreat. Her eyes were wild with panic as she twisted the hem of her top. 

"You don't mean that."

"I've never wanted anything more in my entire life," he clarified, his expression serious.

Her laugh was weak, and when she lifted her hand to run it through her hair, it was trembling. "Don't do this, Tristan."

"Don't what? Love you?" His voice dropped when he confessed, "I do, and I will for the rest of my life." He tried to smile, but the death grip he had on the velvet box told of his strained nerves. "Don't want you? 'Cos I do, so much."

"Don't make this harder than it has to be," she implored. 

"Giving up on us is the last thing I want to do," he bit out. 

Rory threw her hands up in frustration. "God, we're even fighting about this!"

"Well, _excuse me_ for not just meekly submitting to your royal decree," was his sarcastic retort. Her watery smile immediately made him contrite. Sighing, he rubbed his temples. "Rory, I-"

She held up her hand to stop his explanation. "We keep hurting each other without meaning to. And it hurts, Tristan. It _hurts." She laid a hand on her chest, over her heart. "I wouldn't be able to survive if we start intentionally hurting each other."_

There was silence as they stood there, the few feet separating feeling more like a gulf that couldn't be crossed. His eyes rested on her, contemplating. Then he hung his head and she knew even before he spoke that all the fight was out of him. She didn't know whether she felt relieved… or even more miserable.

"So, it's over. Just like that." 

She couldn't bear to see the broken expression in his eyes. 

"We'll just walk away… and never look back?"

"I guess so," she answered, her voice barely audible.

He paused, looking uncertain. "Could you do two things for me?"

She would do anything for him. "What?"

He extended his hand to her, offering the box. "I want you to take this." Sensing that she was about to refuse, he rushed on, "It was meant for you and I want you to have it." 

After a moment of consideration, she finally accepted it, gingering taking it from him and cradling it in her hands. 

His lips quirked into a small smile that vanished as soon as it appeared as he said, "You don't have to keep it… you can do whatever you want with it."

She knew she would keep it, masochist that she was; it'd be a constant, painful reminder of what she had let slip through her fingers. "What's the other thing?"

He walked forward, until they were standing barely a foot from each other. Running his finger across her cheek and along her jaw, he studied the stormy blue of her eyes and asked softly, "Kiss me goodbye."

That was something which was a little more difficult for her to grant him but she could never deny him anything when he was touching her so gently and gazing into her with burning intensity… not when she actually wanted to feel his kiss one more time.

Rory went into his arms with the ease of having been there before a hundred times and when she raised her head, he met her half-way. Their lips met and clung and it felt like they were kissing for the first time… only they were not, and bittersweetness of it all was almost her undoing. 

It was Tristan who broke away first. It was him who brushed away the tears that glistened on her cheeks, and him who gave her such a melancholic smile that she felt her insides clench in despair. 

Oh God, what was she doing?

His gaze lingered on her face and he softly caressed her cheek before pulling his hand away and taking a step back. Then he paused, for a long indeterminable moment, and she almost wanted to take back everything. 

"Don't say it." He jammed his hands into his pockets and took another step back. "No goodbyes."

She couldn't bear to watch him walk away and so she turned her attention back to the sky, catching the last of the deepening rays of light before they faded into the shadowy twilight.

Then darkness slowly descended, and with it, the tears that she had kept at bay. 

This sunset was the end. Oh, the sun would rise again the next morning and brightness and life and hope would blossom again but their love had been snuffed out with the last sunset. 

It was a fitting goodbye for the man who had been the light in her life for so long. 


End file.
